


tumblr requests

by iamleavingthisfandom



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, every request will be rated separately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamleavingthisfandom/pseuds/iamleavingthisfandom
Summary: Any requests from my tumblr will be posted here!
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	tumblr requests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request by [@glimmersinner](https://glimmersinner.tumblr.com/):  
> i have a reddie fic idea, dont know if youre taking requests, but im thinking of after the battle of it (eddie survives bc its canon) they go out for kareoke and stan can live or die its up 2 u :) but they do kareoke at this bar and like richie sings “eddie,baby” to come out w his feelings and i need that in my life thank u
> 
> _I am, indeed, taking requests! And this is such a lovely one, thank you for sending it to me. Hope you like what I’ve cooked up for you! This is nearly twice as long as I initially aimed for, but that’s just how it is_

Raucous laughter rolled over the table full of drinks and snacks that the Losers occupied. After all the “you’re a fucking clown” were said and all the sinister interdimensional entities were done with, everyone went to settle their own affairs, but agreed to reconvene in New York. Which was currently taking the form of getting together in a karaoke bar, an occasion full of drinking and revelry, finally not bearing the shadow of responsibility for defeating an ancient evil. 

The laughter erupted after Richie’s quip about Ben and Beverly’s over-the-top cheesy rendition of _(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life_ , all in good fun, of course. A “happy for you, but keep all the straight details to yourself” was a drunken comment of him trying to read the room, with no malice behind it. He had come out via his twitter earlier in the week, with all the Losers sending him messages of love and support afterwards, and it took no time at all for jokes about being gay to become his go-to response to many things, despite the lingering internal problems. Humor was always his coping mechanism, after all, and it helped that he was surrounded by supportive friends. 

The main problem he was actually struggling with was his less-than-friendly feelings for none other than Eddie Kaspbrak, currently sitting across from him and sipping a Strawberry Daiquiri through a bright green straw. His jokes were decidedly _not_ helping with that, especially not when Eddie let go of the straw to laugh so hard Richie could hear his snorts above the general rowdiness of the bar, but that was not going to stop him from making everyone laugh. 

Just as Richie looked away from Eddie, desperately willing himself not to blush (he was almost forty years old, for fuck’s sakes, he did _not_ blush), Bill called out in a challenging tone:

“Beep-beep, trashmouth, either step up and sing something or stop making fun!” 

Richie put his hand to his chest, as if deeply wounded. 

“Billiam, making fun of you all is my sacred duty.”

“Sing something, Richie,” Beverly joined in. Soon, Bill and Beverly were both chanting “sing,” while Stan sat between them, looking entirely unimpressed if not for a tiny hint of a smile. Ben was mostly interested in looking at Beverly enthusiastically chanting, Mike was grinning a bit, but waited to see the situation develop, and Eddie… Well, Eddie was looking at Richie with an impish expression that the latter was having trouble reading. Finally, after a few seconds of this, he raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine, you vultures. Let me show you how it’s done,” he grinned as Bill and Beverly cheered, and stood up to go to the karaoke machine. He scrolled through the list of songs when one caught his attention. His jokes weren’t helping, but maybe… 

He didn’t let himself finish the thought before he pressed “play” and the first soft chords poured from the speakers. He lifted the mic just in time for the lyrics to start.

_The cameras captured all of the glances  
And all of the chances we’ve missed_

Everyone at the table cheered supportively, except Eddie, who looked like he recognised the song all too well and was slowly starting to show a very fetching blush. Though there was a small, hopeful smile— except was there? Richie didn’t want to give himself vain hope, and instead sang further, only gaining confidence and enthusiasm with every line. 

As always, it took little time for his flair for showmanship to show itself, and by the time the first chorus came, he had started moving his hips and his free arm, in a more dramatic than choreographic fashion, but expressive nonetheless.

_Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms tonight?  
I beg and plead you, please succumb to my charms tonight._

He spared a wink at Eddie, who looked progressively more scarlet, before grinning and making a show of holding his palm to his heart.

_I give my heart_  
But you take it and you break it and you tear it apart  
Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms. 

Not that he hadn’t heard the song before, but somehow actually singing it out loud was different than listening to the lyrics: they resonated deeper now. He didn’t let himself show that, though. A smirk here and a rakish grin there did the trick, and apart from Stan’s raised eyebrow and knowing smile it seemed like no one had thought too much of it. 

_And I hope one day, dear friend, you will come around._

The second Richie thought that maybe choosing a song that showcased his hidden feelings was, in fact, not the best idea he’d ever had, he caught the sight of Eddie biting his lip in a small smile. He reminded himself that Eddie was just embarrassed at being the center of attention (wouldn’t be the first time for that) but in on the joke, yet no matter how he framed it to himself, that little smile was all that it took for his breath to catch. The rest of the performance was likely not his best form, but it mattered little, and when he finished the last line, the Losers’ table erupted in cheers and applause. Even Stan clapped, unable to hold back his smile. Richie made an exaggerated bow and got back to his seat.

“Alright,” Bill clapped his hands once more and got up, “I’ll go see if they have Tubthumping,” and with that, everything seemingly got back to normal. Well, everything except the weird, almost-calculating look Eddie was giving Richie that stopped him from joking about how cheesy Bill’s song choice was. 

The rest of the night was uneventful and full of that special drunken merriment that can only be found in good company. If anyone noticed the looks Richie kept throwing Eddie, no one mentioned anything, and if Eddie had anything to say about Richie’s initial choice of song, he kept it to himself. Eventually, as everything in life, the night had to end, and the Losers started parting ways until the only people left outside the bar were Richie, smoking a cigarette, and Eddie, shuffling his foot on the asphalt and looking anywhere but at his friend. 

“Fun night, huh?” Eddie wondered, seemingly at no one in particular.

“Yeah, but my head’s going to be killing tomorrow,” Richie joked with a puff of smoke. Eddie lifted his head, biting his lip and meeting his eyes for the first time since they said their goodbyes to the rest of the group. 

It took a lot of Richie not to let that stop his inhale of smoke, but he kept his breathing steady. 

“Rich,” Eddie started and paused again, unsure.

“Yeah, Spaghetti?” Richie was determined to keep it light.

“I wish you’d stopped doing things like— like the song,” Eddie rushed out on a single breath, like he was running on a sudden drunken influx of bravery. “If you don’t mean anything by that, it’s just cruel,” he added, quieter and hiding his gaze again.

Wait— cruel? _If_ he didn’t _mean_ anything? Within seconds, hope grew in Richie’s chest, one that he’d systematically squashed down, and too soon it became too big to contain. After a short awkward pause, it pushed the words out of him.

“I meant it.” Eddie’s eyes shot up as he looked questioningly at Richie. “Whatever you’re thinking of now, I meant it.”

“Can you say it? What you meant?” The look in Eddie’s eyes, cautious but on the verge of happy, and the tentative step he took towards Richie, gave him the strength to throw the cigarette on the ground and step on it without taking his eyes off of Eddie. 

“I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was,” he knew it was always a risk to be so open with his heart, but the giggle Eddie let out and a smile that lit up his face were the best payoff Richie could ever want. 

“You’re so cheesy, Tozier. You’re lucky I’m in love with you, too,” Richie barely had the time to make a sound before Eddie moved in and tugged him down into a kiss with a hand in his hair. The kiss was short-lived, though, and soon Eddie was pulling away with a frown, quickly replaced with a laugh.

“You reek of smoke, that’s gross.”

“I’ll give up smoking for you,” Richie promised dramatically, his ability for coherent thought almost gone with the giddy high of their long-anticipated _finally_. Eddie chuckled and stood on the balls of his feet as Richie wound his arms around him.

“I can get used to it,” he kissed Richie again. The rest of the world melted away when their lips moved against each other, and as he tasted the sugary residue of strawberry concoctions on Eddie’s lips, Richie knew he’d never felt quite as elated before in his life. No, not even when his agent booked his first large venue for his show. 

When they pulled apart, Eddie looked at him from under his eyelashes. 

“Want to come over to my place?”

“Ouch, Eds, not even gonna buy me dinner first?” Eddie let out a small laugh, but he looked determined, and maybe, just maybe, Richie felt like he would do absolutely anything for him at that moment. 

“Well?”

“I’d love to,” Richie smiled in response. Eddie stepped back to hail a cab, and suddenly there was a slight twinge of doubt in Richie’s gut. “And we don’t have to— do anything you don’t want to do, of course.” The look Eddie gave him in response was best described as amused. 

“Oh, we don’t _have_ to, but I _definitely_ want to. That is, if you…” he didn’t finish the thought, because Richie interrupted him.

“You have no idea how much I want to.” 

With a grin, Eddie took his hand and waited for a cab to pull up, which it did in just a few seconds. Richie followed him into the car with a blinding grin and put his hand on Eddie’s thigh as he listened to him tell the driver the address. 

His main takeaway from the whole thing was that sometimes joking about his true feelings paid off big time. Anything else was overshadowed by Eddie’s hand sliding smoothly into his once more and his large eyes staring gently into Richie’s own, but maybe that was just as well.


End file.
